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vii !•; LA ND, VA., xt yv i: MBE K 1 so:.
THANKSGIVING PAY.
IIA T dreary clay in
New England
/ff_ H w li i c h witnessed
i\ tli e genesis of
Thanksgiving af
" y forded no possible
augury of that an
niversary in latest
(fu A times. A mere
handful of people,
but a little more
> K than lbO, the ebil
.; YY- dren and women
Q. t included with the
* > ) men, were gath
f'-'i ' " ered upon a rocky
'• shore, with a wide
M and storm-driven
hf V sea s e piu rating
them from their
former home, and
with a savage, and, as yet, unknown
people upon their north, south and
west. The early snowfall gave assur
ance of a long and severe winter, and
the winds soughed dismally through
the tree.branches. Yet these Puritans
were a pious as well as brave people,
who were grateful to God for their
safe landing after a long and boisterous
voyag. , and they were especially pleased
that, though the country was bleak and
bare, their industry should convert the
forests into fertile fields, which each
returning year would yield rich liar
vests of golden grain.
Before all, however, they were grate
ful t! A in this new world they could
worship God as they pleased, without
fear of j.elal proscription, stripes,
stocks or the gaol. Thanksgiving day
was horn di tinctively of a consuming
love for (•'.■ i! as well as religious liberty.
They i rr \ ho claim that as a nation we
do not n iiixc God and 11 is control
ling pnv. r over men, collectively as a
•J ••iijde,as well as individually. Upon our
coi: are engraved the words: "In God
we t i*ii twhile every proclamation of
Thanksgiving recites the blessings we
rcei i \ e at Ilis hands as well as our duty
of cor.iYs.-ing our obligations to Him.
Nothing co :ill be more appropriately
ex pre.- -ed than these proclamations, 1
each in its turn.
Our fathers thus set the fashion of
commemorating the duty and obliga
tion resting upon men. Hut they could
not po :ly grasp the thought how in
blcssbi . lie could bless them, and in
multiplying lie would multiply them—
they and tlie little colony down in Vir
ginia, until within three centuries
there should spring from them the fore
most nation upon the face of the earth.
If the newly-arriwd Pilgrims could find
occasion for fortitude, assuredly their
descei la ; , with all other Americans,
may do so with fervent hearts, moved of
joy, because of the infinitely superior |
bit s- i,ip which rest upon them. They
can thank <iud that this is a nation of
peace, not !\en over to war; that we
are a unhid people, filled with a pur- j
]•>-. to n..i!:c the nation yet more glo- :
rious; and that the earth'yields every- i
where of its richness, for the sustenance
of the people. They can thank Him be- j
cause I'. wheels of the factories are
whirling and that the marts of trade i
are crowded; for the jealousy with j
which our schools are guarded and for
1; althful moral influences that are
iw\ v.! i-rc extend!r.g. They can bless j
3!! i:. -I that are happy and that '
thi ir ei iav< none to molest or 1
make ik< afraid. For advance in art,
hi mi it- .id all the material things in
the world '.jcautiful, one should find
cau riving, because culti
vation of tin s beatitudes means ad
vance in moral and intellectual growth.
There k; n i lielivcran * from the
pestilence that tall d at noonday and
from that innke desolate the
habitof man. No great public
wroi! rei: in to be redressed, the poor
are n t < : '<l and the fatherless
and the widow have found friends.
Ih * in do llif wronged of all nations
find a M-. < RI hai.it A tion, and our coun
try i ;honored by all the countries. Each
per < a:i find reuse for gratitude foi
per- a! bi- ng , and all may unite
5n gi :>g thanks in thisgreat national
liolid .. , pi uliar in litution of this
great i op Ip.
w • r J,J AM ROSSI: R COBBJS.
A TL ink.' .vh inii' i'biloNO|>her.
What's de use ob all de klckln' an' de
'Bout • ;r! : il.i fam wanted by de moke?
prlct a-ralsin' high,
'J • •:! it 1 mo.' touch de sky,
Twi'll i . rk'. be yond de reach ob cull'd
Cai:.'; ' 1 h c?at turkey gobbler gob-
He a *i rn y r! in' to remark
I id ; k'y In de fall
Am v n le n u h ob all
If yo' i. \ ' r ichin' in de dark!
Eaton. In X. Y. World.
O-^ISn'OITLX-A..
35T 3.
f f Ib^mKsQjw'snoS,
1/ rise *
xdL/ Among the last of
summer's devotees.
They write "Regret" across the autumn
skies
Flecked all with white like Inland run
ning seas;
Deserted nests that cling the eaves along
Are empty, but the ricks below are full.
And so the heart of man Is glad to song.
For plenty makes his prospect beautiful.
E'en the raggedy man,
Napolean,
Who wags his beard at the clock,
At this thankful time
Sits down to dine
With the stiff old Puritan stock.
The children come to feast abundant
spread.
Grown children with the silver in their
hair.
And with them, marked by hesitating
tread
And air subdued, their own dear off
spring fair,
Affrighted still, but grandma's voice as-
And clouded skies begin at once to
clear,
She to her own each fainting heart 3e-
And purifies by love the atmosphere;
Hut the raggedy man,
Napolean.
A genius gone astray,
Through turkey thighs
Sends curious cries
Upon Thanksgiving day.
Before the feast what earnest prayers are
said.
And at its close what heartfelt songs are
sung.
Care and Regret to other scenes are fled
While words of kindness trip from every
tongue
The graces bend to lift the mystic veil
That hides the future on all other days,
Where Plenty stands and Comfort cries:
"All hall!
Ye sons of men, join in a song of praise "
Then the raggedy man,
Napolean,
Sits high in his humble seat,
And he sings and laughs,
Anil he freely qualYs,
Arid he orders the dark of the meat.
Oh. rags that push the cup of hope aside
At other times, your power is lost to
day;
The world has turned her back on selfish
pride
To do good deeds without the hope of
pay;
So shall sweet sleep unwonted pillows
bless
When western slopes have swallowed up
the sun.
And for each act of special tenderness
Unto the poor on this Thanksgiving
done.
The raggedy man,
Napolean,
Who lives like the sun or stream,
Like the moon or the rose,
With no thought of clothes.
Will bring you a blissful dream.
CHARLES EUGENE BANKS.
| tin Red Steer, jp
z Southern Thanksgiving Story. 2:
ui *Ji ii M1111 • n ">I!• M IIII 111
\, /V TIRE D - LOOKIXG
woman was weav-
Cwjf ing- by the light of
cil : 'r' a five two can
dies placed high
and of comely face,
under control, and
disobedience. A
waff ' a schoo!mas
ter, had declared
the constant scene
of a petty rebel
lion. From time to time she reached
back into a corner and drew forth
sticks of brushwood to feed the fire.
The night was warm, the door was
open, but the fire was needed to throw
light upon the loom, the candles were
so dull. The woman was known as
the Widow Towson; the girl was her
daughter. The husband and father,
known as Cling Towson, was away cPE
somewhere in a government prison,
serving out a life sentence for kill! g
a deputy marshal who had come to de
stroy his moonlight distillery. Tl e
neighbors voted that as no on? was
ever known to survive a life sentence
in a Yankee prison, Mrs. Towson might
as well enter at once Iter season of
widowhood; and so, whenever nnyc.ne
would ask: "Does the Widow Towson
live here?" she would answer: "Yes."
The log house of the Tow sons was set
at the head of a rock-i ibm i.. lt „ u .i..
studded and vine-laced ravine. Tin
county road thai led over the mounta'it.
was not far away, and m.my a time
in the dark nights before i he final down
fall came the girl had often listened it;
her bed to hear the enemy's horse heal
ing upon the hard "pike" and hat!
looked up to see her father sitting near
the door with his gun lying across his
knees.
"Let me weave now. mother," said
the girl. "You are worn out."
"You attend to the fire," the woman |
replied, looking round with a sigh.
"That's hard enough. And, besides,
you can't weave."
"Hut I can try."
"Yes, and while you are trying the
work will be going to waste. If you i
would only do as I beg of you—"
An appealing look from the girl
checked her. "You know what I mean,"
she said.
"Yes," the girl replied, "I know."
"Then you know what I want you to
do."
"Yes."
"Then why don't you do it?"
"Because I can't."
The woman frowned. "But you can
see me kill myself at work."
"I am compelled to see it, but it
grieves me nearly to death."
"If it did. you would aeek a remedy, j
ai 1 one Is at hand. What have 1 done
for you? 1 have, stolen the time to give
you all the education I had—we have
hidden our books in the woods, because
your father thought they were fool
ish—"
"I know all that, mother."
"But you don't think of it."
"Yos, I do, when you are asleep. But j
to save my life I can't marry that man."
The woman turned from her loom.
"I suppose you are going to be foolish
enough to say that you don't love him."
"I don't love him."
"Ah, I thought so. But you could re
spect him."
"I might, but I couldn't respect my
self."
"Your father must have been right.
Our books were silly, to put such no
tions in your head. 1 married for love,
Ella, and what did it mean? A life of
drudgery. And that is what a love mar
riage generally amounts to for a wom
an. You will at least promise me to
think over it."
"Yes, 1 w ill promise that."
The girl went to bed and she kept her
promise to think over it. The mother
was soon asleep, and the girl could hear
her sigh in her troubled dreams. But
the more she thought the more she dis
liked old Lige Coster, lie was the loud
est man that had ever ridden through
the neighborhood. It wus his business
to ride about, buying steers. He looked
like a red steer. His red hair (he was
, bald except on the sides of his head)
stuck up like the horns of a steer, lie
had a laugh that sounded like the low
of n steer. Once he had a fight with a
man and did not use his hands at all.
Ife kicked like a steer. But he made
money, he had a house, painted green,
with sunflowers in the yard, but with
steers lowing in the back lot. lie hud
said that his wife would not have to
work, and this statement found cre
dence even among women who knew that
his first wife had almost killed herself
with hard labor. As the neighbors ex
pressed it, he had made a dead set at
Ella. lie had laughed, or lowed, when
she had kindly told him to go His way.
He said that he would but that he
would come back again; and he did,
not only once, but many times. He had
thought that Sam May field, the wag
gish school-teacher, stood in his way.
And it was a fact, a stronger fact than
lie supposed, but May field could
promise her nothing better than a life
of hard work.
Early the next morning the teacher
stopped at. the Towson house, on his
way to school. The girl met him at the
fence. Looking back she caught sight
of her mother's angry face.
"The postmaster says that you are !
writing letters to the government,"
said the girl. "What are you doing that
for?"
"In the interest of your father," he
answered.
"But that won't do any good."
"It may. I have told them what a'
brave union soldier he was during thel
war. That will have n good efFect, if
it is properly presented. And I am
working on it like a man writing a book.
I find that he saved the ling more than
once; and 1 also find that there is con
siderable doubt as to his killing the
deputy."
"He declared that he didn't," Ella re
' plied.
"Yes and nobody over knew him to
tell a lie. I have been poking around a
good deal and I have coine within one of
finding out a good many things, and I
may find them out sure enough the
first thing you know. But now to an
other point. When are we to be mar
ried?"
She shook her head sadly. "I don't
know, Sam. Mother—"
M Ye, 1 know. The Red Steer has
worked on her."
"She thinks he is the greatest man in
the world."
"On account of his money. But we
shouldn't blame her. Iler life has been
hard."
"But you don't want me to marry
him."
J He looked up. and then drawled hu-
I mcrously: "It would be sad if they
should find a Red Steer lying in the
road."
"Ella, come in here," the mother
called.
The young man seized her hand and j
kissed it as she turned away.
That afternoon the Red Steer called,
full of confidence. "Oh, it's all right
to make a blulT." he said, talking to the
mother but looking at the girl. "1 don't
want anything to be too easy."
"It will not be at all," said the girl.
Thanksgiving services, the first for
many a year, were to be held in the
Lick meeting house. The widow de
clared that she would not go, that she
had nothing to be thankful for. May- I
I field called at the house to persuade
I her. "Don't talk to me," she said. "You
( are the very one that causes me not to :
I be thankful."
"But you will let Ella go, won't you?" !
"She can do as she pleases. She has |
done so; she has broken my heart. Mr. !
Coster went away disgusted day before !
yesterday and swears that he will not i
come any more."
"Ah. and as he is now out of the wax.
you won't object to—"
"Yes, I will. You shall never marry
her with my consent."
"Oh, I think so. Will you promise me
I one thing?"
"1 don't know, but what is it?"
"That you will foring her to church
to-morrow?"
"I don't know. Why do you want me
there?"
"To see you thankful in the presence
of your neighbors."
"Impossible. But if you will make
me a promise—but I ought not to ask
it."
"I don't know what it is, but I'll tell ,
you what I will agree to do. If you are 1
not thankful ou this occasion, 1 will
.
THE GOBBLER'S LAST APPEARANCE.,
agree to withdraw in favor of the Red |
Steer."
"I will be there," said the widow.
The sermon was to be preached by an j
old man. The congregation was large.
A mysterious whisper had gone about '
that something unusual might be ex
pected. The preacher was nervous
when lie arose. He looked from time to
time toward a side door. The widow
and her daughter sat well toward, the
I MAYFIEi.D RECEIVES HIS REWARD. I
I front. The girl wondered why May- j
I held had not come. The lied Steer aat |
| not far away, gazing at her. There was
j a sudden commotion at the front end i
of the house. The people were aston- 1
j ished to see armed men take their j
j stand at the door. Just then Mayfielc! |
i entered from the side door. Ile noddecl j
i at the preacher, who said: "Before the
| services begin there is a strange cere- i
mony to go through with. Mr. May j
| field."
The preacher stepped aside, and May- |
field addressed the people. "My friends," j
said he, "I think that this will be j
' n day of real thanksgiving in this neigh- '
i borhood." lie paused for a moment and ;
; then continued: "An investigation by i
the government has proved a certain {
| man innocent of the crime of killing a
deputy, and his great service as a sold
ier has pardoned his offense as an il
licit distiller. He reached my place las;
night, by arrangement, and is now
here."
Cling Towson stepped in at the side
door. His wife, with a shriek, sprang
to meet hiin. lie looked for a inoinen:
upon her tired face, and then putting
his arms about her, he said: "You
won't have to work so hard. The gov
1 eminent has given me a back pension.'
The congregation shouted with tears
, in their eyes, for Cling had always been
a favorite in the neighborhood. The
pardoned man embraced his daughter
, and, with a backwoodsman's unconi-
I fortalble grace, bowed and put her hand
in Mayfleld's outstretched palm. Then
Muyfield spoke again. "We have dis-
J covered that the deputy was murdered
by a man known as the Red Steer."
OPIE READ.
THEY WERE GRATEFUL.
Two WnnilcpcPN Exemplify tlie I'hl
loNopliy of Thanlcsfflvlnj;.
Weorv Willie and Tattered Edgar had
walked 1? miles that Thanksgiving day
oxer muddy roads.
They were the strangest couple in the
WILLIE AND EDDIE,
j state. Willie was a small, red-haired i
man with a vast mass of red beard. lie
i wore a diminutive straw hat without a
brim, and a monstrous sweater of start-
1 l' r -rTb' bright green, in which he looked
i like a vaudeville comedian overdone. j
Edgar was slightly over six feet in |
i height, lit- wore a discarded golf suit
j that had been made for n man of about ,
. live feet four. llis general apjwurance
suggested a perennial hunger.
The eon; lc was tired, but it was hap
py. for Weary Willie had found a dime,
and they v.cre on the way to the next
town, where they intended to honor the
day and give due thanks by enjoying
a &!ass of foaming lager apiece,
j They were still six miles from the
! nearest saloon and it was already four
j in the afternoon. They were seated by
I the roadside, resting. On the other side
of the road was a hay field in which
i were two invitingly restful haystacks.
| llad it not been for the anticipated
pleasure of the beer the haystacks
[ would have wooed them from the road,
j "Say, Eddie," said Willie, as he sadh
fondled a stonebruise on his heel," dis
here T'anksgivin' day is a great insti
( tootion, ain't it?"
! "Dat'swot!" remarked Eddie. "I alius
I feel glad when it comes round, 'cos we's
j dead sure of a full feed. Dey ain't no
j body got de heart to t'row us down on
j T'anksgivin' day. De human heart gits
! chuck full of love and all dat sort o' biz.
; I ain't never knowed nobody ter sa\
'woodpile' on dis anniversary."
"Nor me ueeder," said Willie. "An*
we ain't so slow ourselves, dis year. We
i got a dime widout workin', an' we're
goin' ter have de drink; we can be as
t'ankful as anybody."
I "Ef et wasn't so fur ter de town," said
I Eddie. "You's sure you got dat clime?"
1 "Sure!" replied Eddie, with contempt,
; "why—"
j lie ran his hand into his pocket. There
I was no dime there!
I "Eddie," he said, "my tailor fergot
I tor plug up de air holes in disipocket!
I ain't got dat dime!"
1 For a moment Eddie was silent.
"Say, Cully," he said, at last, "we j
ain't got ter walk dent six miles!
I Joy lighted Weary Willie's pale eyes, j
i as he started for the nearest haystack, j
"Eddie," he said, as he stretched bim
| self out on the fragrant hay, "de man
j w at says you an' me ain't got nothin' ter i
j be t'ankful erbout don't know how
1 close we come ter welkin* demsix miles,
j does he?"
ELLTS PARKER BUTLER. j
llracff I p.
Thanksyivln's plttln' ur.dor way, !
It ain't no time ter nurse
Ter troubles; show yer gratitude
Because they ain't no worse.
—Rochester Post.
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emmm 1 ;; -
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